


Darkroom

by AmaranthPrincess21



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Basically Adrien and Marinette have to protect themselves from a killer, F/M, Horror mystery, Humiliation, Serial Killers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5874076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmaranthPrincess21/pseuds/AmaranthPrincess21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Models are disappearing and corpses of long-lost models are surfacing all of over Paris. The only clue to the next victim is a series of photographs, but even that might mean it’s too late. Determined to save lives, Ladybug and Chat Noir investigate the case. But it’s not as easy as it looks. With Marinette filling in at an Agreste photo shoot with Adrien, looking into the matter is all but easy and to make matters worse, they both have targets on their backs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I am hella morbid and I tend to watch _Dateline_ and _48 Hours_ a lot, and one episode was about a freak that was killing models and inspiration struck.  
>  I’m going to stress this series is going to be INCREDIBLY dark. This is definitely not for children or for those who don’t like horror movies.

There is a room in Paris that not many people know about. It is not small and it is not large. It’s on a second floor of a small, run-down apartment building. There’s a fire escape but not many use it. It’s rickety and whenever someone walks on it, it causes a rattle like laboring lungs crying for air. But it adds well to the air of dilapidation, the air of rot, that this building has. Not all of Paris is shrouded in light. Shadows dance on vacant streets to earn a living and darkness oozes from alleys, enticing monsters to take refuge in the pitch black abyss. 

There is a room in Paris where darkness has taken residence, where evil lives, breathes, and procreates. Where evil tortures and rapes to thrive in a city full of light. Where the demonic spirit of spite lives. He is the only living soul here: the others are long dead. Everything that is wrong with the world plays here, among the black walls and corpses and disgusting pictures of men and women who are now forgotten by society. 

It is called the Darkroom. 

 

Adrien was a fairly light sleeper and had problems falling asleep. Last night had been no different. He’d gotten home late from a photo shoot and when he woke up, all he wanted to do was to curl up and go back to sleep. His eyes felt like they had weights in them as he dragged himself to his bathroom.

“What, no ‘good morning?’” Plagg spoke up, darting out of the small plush cat cube he called his bed.

“It’s too early to be a good morning,” Adrien muttered, shutting the bathroom door in Plagg’s face.

“It’s Friday,” the kwami called through the door.

“It sure is,” Adrien called back. 

“Don’t you have something to do today?” Adrien rolled his eyes as he started to brush his teeth. 

“Yeah, I have day three of the photo shoot,” he replied. 

“Are you  _ kidding _ me?! You’ve been agonizing over today for the past week and the first thing that came to your mind was the photo shoot?!” Adrien choked on his toothbrush, frothy toothpaste spilling out of his mouth and onto the counter. Friday.  _ It was Friday. _ How could he have forgotten?

A week ago, Adrien decided today was going to be the day he asked out Marinette. He wasn’t sure when he started looking at Marinette more and Ladybug less. That wasn’t to say his crush on his superheroine friend was gone; no, he still loved her, but as the years went on he realized that a relationship was highly unlikely. She was dedicated to their work and didn’t want romance to ruin anything, and he respected that. He would still jump at the chance to date her, but he’d do the same for Marinette. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure who he liked more. But he was never honest with himself. That question was one he didn’t want to think about for too long. 

“Fuck,” Adrien hissed under his breath. Today wasn’t the day to just brush his hair and go to school like he wanted to do. He had to look his best when he asked her out.

A scoop of hair gel, a generous amount of concealer for the bags under his eyes, and copious amounts of cologne later, Adrien rushed out of the bathroom. He grabbed his bag, Plagg tucked inside, and bolted down the stairs to the car waiting outside. There was an emergency stash of food in his bag; he’d just have some of that for breakfast. 

The drive to school was boring as usual. Adrien’s eyes were glued to the small TV screen in the car. Nothing terribly exciting was happening. A weather report, the fifteenth anniversary of the disappearance of supermodel Chanel Clement-Dupont, a heartwarming story about puppies, someone making another meme about the president. He preferred boring news to anything exciting. Exciting meant tragic and the world had enough sadness in it as it was. The last thing he wanted to hear was about someone else’s misfortunes. 

Marinette was standing with Nino and Alya outside the high school, all of them talking and laughing at something. It hadn’t been five seconds and already the butterflies in his stomach were hysterical.  _ You can’t do this, _ a voice in the back of his head told him.  _ You can’t ask her out. You’re going to mess up and she’ll laugh out you. Why would a girl like Marinette want to go out with a guy like you? _

The car pulled over and let him out before speeding away. Trying to channel some of the confidence of Chat Noir, Adrien approached his friends. Nino waved at him. 

“Hey, man! We were just talking about you! How’d that shoot go last night?” he asked. Adrien groaned, running a few fingers through his hair.

“Fine, but we got done hours later than we should have since one of the models didn’t show up and we had to pick up the slack. I got home around one last night,” he said, a slight pinch of irritation in his body. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Alya and Nino, but he wished they hadn’t been with Marinette this morning. He just wanted to ask her out and stop feeling sick with nerves. 

“That sucks, man. Maybe you can get some sleep tonight,” Nino shrugged. The warning bell rang and almost immediately the air was devoid of energy, as if the bell sucked it from all of the students milling around outside. Clearly, no one else wanted to go to class either. A dull panic seeped into Adrien’s body: it was now or never. 

“Hey, Marinette, can I talk to you for a moment?” For her credit, Marinette didn’t look very fazed at his request and Adrien was thankful for that.

“Sure! What’s up?” she asked, ignoring the curious looks from Nino and Alya as they walked away. Talking to her and imagining himself talking to her were two completely different things, Adrien now realized. In his mind, he’d be smoother than silk, coherently asking her on a date. She’d enthusiastically say yes and they’d walk to their first class and she’d let him hold her hand and - “Adrien?”

“S-sorry, I spaced out.” Why did his face have to turn red now? It was bad enough his heart was hammering in his chest; now he visibly looked nervous. “I, uh, I was, uh. Food. After school. Me. You. Yeah?” Oh God, why did he resort to doing a thumbs up to accentuate his point? He looked absolutely ridiculous and he knew it. Plagg was probably dying of laughter in his bag. Marinette, thank God, didn’t look like she was going to laugh. If anything, she looked surprised. Maybe she was just confused. 

“You want to have dinner with me?” she asked incredulously. He nodded, terrified to speak. “Wait, are you asking me on a date?!” 

“Yes.” Adrien wanted to die right then and there. His voice cracked.  _ I thought I was done with that crap years ago! _ He had half a mind to just give up and trudge away, but one glance at Marinette’s smile told him to stay.

“I, yeah! A wonderful would be date! I mean, a date would be wonderful” She was just as red as he was and he felt relieved she accepted (and was just as tongue-tied as him).

“There’s, there’s a little hole-in-the-wall not too far from my house we could go to,” he suggested. His heart melted at her smile. 

“I’d like that.” 

 

Adrien shifted his weight from foot to foot, eyes glancing up at the entrance of their school every few seconds. Seconds dragged into minutes as he waited for Marinette. His hand was tapping his thigh to a tuneless beat and his green eyes looked back towards the entrance of the high school frequently. 

“Relax. It’s going to go fine,” Nino was saying, patting him on the back. “She’s crazy about you and you’re crazy about her. It’s going to be fine.” 

“I guess. I-I’m sure it’ll go well,” Adrien lied through his teeth. Feelings were one thing and compatibility was another. Adrien knew that and deep down the idea of him and Marinette not working well together terrified him. But the only way to find out was to jump into a relationship and see for himself if they could work. 

“It’s about time you asked her out. Now we can finally have double-dates!” Nino said excitedly, putting his arm around Adrien. “You know how long Alya and I have been waiting to have one of those?”

“Sorry I’ve been ruining your life,” Adrien joked. Nino snorted. 

“Seriously though. I’m happy for you. Marinette and you are going to make a cute couple.”

Nino squeezed his shoulder. Adrien looked up and saw Marinette and Alya walking towards them. The fluttering feeling of butterflies arose as he waved to Marinette. They said nothing, only smiling at each other as they waited for their ride. He wasn’t sure what to say.

His car drove up and they said goodbye to their friends. Adrien opened the door for Marinette and let her file in first. Once inside he heard her squeak in surprise and getting in himself, he saw why. Nathalie was in the back of the limo, a critical eye on his date. 

“Nathalie, you remember Marinette, right?” he asked. Perhaps that would break the ice. 

“Yes, I remember her,” Nathalie said shortly. “If I realized you were taking a friend to the shoot, I would have made arrangements.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your father thought it’d be best if we started the shoot earlier and moved the time. You should be there in six minutes and we should get done in time for dinner,” Nathalie said. Adrien glanced over to Marinette. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her at a shoot bored for hours on end. “It’s okay. I’m sure everyone will be fine with her hanging out in a corner.”

“Unless you’d rather go home and we can have dinner another time,” Adrien suggested.

“No, I’m okay with waiting a few hours!” Marinette insisted.  _ She’s so patient. Do I even deserve to be with her, _ he wondered. 

The drive to the shoot was fast and Nathalie quickly ushered him off to get ready and enlisted Marinette to help her out. Guilt was starting to eat at Adrien’s stomach as makeup artists perfected him. He didn’t want Marinette to be waiting around for him. All he wanted was to sit down and spend time with her. And while he’d have downtime on the shoot, he didn’t know how much and she deserved better than that. Marinette deserved his full attention and to give her anything less felt wrong. He just hoped she didn’t mind too much. 

 

“Are you kidding me?!” The photographer screamed. Marinette hadn’t been helping out for more than five minutes and already she wanted to leave. Helping Nathalie wasn’t bad, but the photographer blowing up wasn’t something she wanted to witness. “Nicole isn’t here?! That little . . . This is the  _ third _ time she hasn’t shown up! I refuse to let her drag down this photoshoot! Find someone else!” 

“Adrien brought a friend along. We can put her to work,” Nathalie suggested.

“Wait, what?” Marinette asked. 

“She’ll do,” the photographer replied. “Pay her in trade and get her to the prep trailer. Have Marie-Christine show her ropes.” 

“Can do,” Nathalie said. “Come on, Marinette. We don’t have any time to waste.” 

“I-I’m sorry, what am I supposed to do?” Marinette asked the older woman as she followed her to one of the many trailers.

“You’re filling in for Nicole since she apparently can’t be bothered to show up on time. But that’s her loss. Even if you want to do designing, modelling will still look good on a resumé.” 

“But I’ve never done this before,” Marinette protested.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Nathalie responded unsympathetically. The door to a large trailer was open. Marinette and Nathalie slipped inside. A young blonde was sitting in a chair, letting a man straighten her hair. She was already dolled up and suddenly Marinette felt very insecure. The two looked over at them. 

“Marie-Christine, this is Marinette. She’s a friend of Adrien’s and will be taking Nicole’s place in the shoot today,” Nathalie explained. Marie-Christine extended her hand to Marinette.

“Awesome! Nice to meet you!” she said cheerfully. Marinette shook her hand.

“Make sure she gets her makeup done,” Nathalie instructed.

“Okay!”  
“And her hair.”

“Uh huh.”

“And her clothes are -”

_ “Thanks, _ Nathalie! I’ll take good care of her!” Marie-Christine said cheerfully. The older woman nodded and left. Marie-Christine sighed in relief. “Thank God she’s gone! She’s always so serious. It really kills my vibe,” she confided in Marinette. “So, is this your first shoot? I’ve never seen you before in anything.”

“Yeah . . .” Marinette replied, taking a seat beside Marie-Christine. 

“Nice! I would’ve killed for my first shoot to be an editorial back when I started!”

“I, uh, an editorial?”

“Geez, has Adrien been keeping you in the dark about this? An editorial is the more prestigious kind of modelling work. It’s the kind of spread you see in the best fashion magazines. It doesn’t pay all that well, but it adds something great to your resumé. Jean, can you get started on her? I’m sure Dupont will be pissed if we keep him waiting and I can finish up my own hair.” The man straightening her hair nodded, letting her do her own hair before moving onto Marinette. 

“Yeah. Uh, I have a question, Marie-Christine.”

“Shoot.”

“The photographer said they’d pay me in trade?”

“It means you get to keep any of the clothes or accessories you wear during the shoot. I suggest keeping everything,” she explained. “Me and the other girls, when we’re paid like that, we meet up at my place afterwards and we trade clothes if we don’t like anything. You’re more than welcome to come.” 

“I . . . thanks. But I’m going to dinner afterwards.” 

“Okay! Maybe next time.” 

“Oh, I don’t think there’s going to be a next time,” Marinette laughed nervously. Marie-Christine shrugged.

“You never know. The shoot is supposed to be for a few more days and since Nicole hasn’t shown up to any of the past ones, you might be taking her spot in everything she was supposed to do.” The thought scared Marinette. She wasn’t a model. She designed clothes and that was it. She knew she wasn’t cut out for modeling.

“How come she’s not here?”

“I don’t know. I kept trying to call her yesterday but it just kept going to voicemail.” Marie-Christine sat back in her chair, looking up towards the ceiling. “You know, it’s kinda weird now that you mention it. She was sending me nudes the day before but they were like, weird faux-artsy nudes. Now don’t get me wrong, I love me some gorgeous naked women, but it was just so  _ bizarre.” _

“You’re oversharing again, Marie-Christine,” Jean said, looking up from Marinette to glare at the blonde.

“Heh, sorry. I get caught up in things sometimes,” she apologized as she put down her straightener. “Do you need help doing her hair? I don’t have to be at the camera for another hour or two.” He nodded and the two worked on Marinette, fixing her up for the camera. With Marie-Christine tugging at her hair and Jean spreading layer upon layer of makeup on her, Marinette wondered if this was what Adrien was put through every time he had to face a camera. Empathy tore at her heartstrings and she made a solemn vow to take down his modeling pictures and to never buy a magazine with him in it ever again. 

“All right! You’re done, sweetie,” Jean said. Marinette could hardly believe it was her own reflection in the mirror. Her hair was tightly curled and bobbed, her lips bright red, and dark eyeliner making her eyes seem huge. Marie-Christine clapped her hands, a giddy look on her face. 

“You look great, girlie! I can’t wait to see what they put you in!” Jean went to a rack and shoved a few hangers aside before pulling out a dress.  

“Get dressed and go to Jérémy, the photographer,” Jean instructed her, leaving the trailer to give her some privacy. Marinette nodded and did as she was told, nerves boiling in her stomach. The dress itself was very cute. A short little number that conjured up images of Art Deco buildings and a good time. She put on the accompanying shoes (heels; did Gabriel Agreste not believe in flats?) and hurried over to Jérémy and the rest of the crew. Nathalie was right next to Gabriel Agreste, both in stools behind the photographer. Adrien was sitting on a stool waiting for her, phone in his hands. 

_ Oh my God, oh my God, don’t freak out, _ she thought, eyes surveying Adrien. His golden hair was slicked back and the suit he wore accentuated his broad chest and revealed a little bit of the muscle he had developed.  _ Don’t stare! The worst thing you could do is drool right now! _ Adrien gave her a warm smile, eyes widening at the sight of her.

“You look amazing,” he told her and she could feel heat burning under her cheeks.

“You look amazing yourself,” she replied, smiling and desperately trying to keep her cool. How was she supposed to work when Adrien was so looking so attractive?

“How do they look, Mr. Agreste?” Jérémy asked. Gabriel nodded.

“They’re good to go,” he replied tersely. Clearly, he wasn’t one to waste words. 

“All right, let’s get this done so we can move on,” Jérémy said as he clapped his hands together. “Sit down across from each other and hold hands.” The small set was simplistic. A wrought iron table and chairs, and an elegant table setting of china and crystal glasses. Marinette was careful as she sat down, trying not to rip any of the beads off her dress. “Look like you’re on a date.”  _ Okay, Marinette, be natural, _ she told herself, giving Adrien a warm, loving smile. “Perfect! Hold!” The camera went off a few times, bright flashes stinging her eyes. 

“Adrien, look like you just told Marinette a witty joke and Marinette, lean back and react,” Gabriel instructed them. Adrien leaned forward, elbow resting on the table and his facial expression almost identical to Chat Noir’s whenever he told a lame joke. Channeling her inner Ladybug, Marinette leaned back and gave him her trademark “I’m faintly amused” look. 

“Fantastic!” Jérémy cried as he took more pictures. “Boy, scoot your chair back a little bit so she can sit on your lap.” Marinette felt her soul leave her body. This was it. She was dead. Slowly, she got up and made her way to Adrien. She dared not look over at his father and Nathalie. Who knew how’d they react? Adrien pushed his chair back for her and she slowly sat down. She sat on Alya’s lap all the time, but the feeling of Adrien’s legs underneath her and his body so close to her was an alien, albeit amazing, feeling. 

“Okay, act like you’re in love.” Marinette, heart racing, put her arms around Adrien’s neck while he put his hands on her waist. “Girl, kiss his cheek.” Marinette was internally screaming as she leaned in, planting a very red kiss on Adrien’s cheek. The camera went off. “Good, now lean back and boy, turn slightly to the camera to show the kiss mark.” Somehow, she felt kind of proud leaving a bright red mark on Adrien. And for sitting on his lap without melting into a puddle. “Girl, pull your skirt up more. Show more thigh,” Jérémy instructed her. She stiffened. Sitting down, the dress was already pretty short. Did she really have to hike it up? 

“Absolutely not.” Marinette jumped at the harsh voice, looking over at the deathly serious face of Gabriel Agreste. “She’s a child and we’re not going to be sexualizing her. This is a fashion shoot, not a porno.” Jérémy pursed his lips but didn’t fight back. 

“Boy, put your head on her shoulder.” Marinette made a mental note to thank Adrien’s father later. Jérémy took a few more photos before they were dismissed, sent back to their different trailers to get ready for the next part of the shoot.

Six hours later they called it a day and Marinette was ready to go have dinner with Adrien and get some sleep for once. She was in the mostly empty men’s trailer, texting her parents her plans while waiting for Adrien to finish removing all of his makeup. 

“I’m really sorry this took so long,” he apologized, throwing away the foundation-saturated wipe and ducking behind a curtain to change back into his street clothes.

“It’s okay! This was an experience,” she replied. “I can’t believe you have to do this all the time, though.” 

“Yeah. It gets kind of crazy,” he laughed. “But I promise I won’t drag you to another shoot. Unless you want to come,” he added hurriedly. He came out and shoved a few things into his bag before hanging up the rest of his clothes. 

“I don’t know. I guess I’m neutral about it. But then again, I got to take some photos with you so that might be clouding my judgement,” she said. He grinned back and walked over to her, putting his arm around her as he laughed. 

“This is probably one of the better photoshoots I’ve been in thanks to you,” he said. He moved in front of her, hands resting on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. He looked so happy, like he enjoyed this process for once and Marinette felt a rush of pride. She’d made this a little more fun for him. She smiled back at him when a metallic knocking went through the trailer.  

“Adrien Agreste?” A police officer called out, stepping into the trailer. Adrien coughed, hands retreating from Marinette’s shoulders.  _ What are police doing here, _ Marinette wondered.

“Yes?” he asked. The way the officers looked around the trailer terrified her. It was if they were avoiding Adrien’s eyes. A pit was growing in her stomach and absentmindedly, her hand reached out for his. 

“We . . . we need you to come with us down to the morgue. We may have found your mother.”


	2. Chapter 2

Adrien was shaking like a leaf as he headed home. His trembling hands were laced with Marinette’s. To her credit, she was doing the best she could to soothe him, stroking the length of his thumb and letting him rest against her. But they both knew nothing would calm him down. The police had him and his father identify his mother’s corpse and if his screams was any indicator, he was not in a good state. Even the apathetic Gabriel Agreste looked shocked, terrified even, as he rode beside them. 

The car was dead silent through the ride to the Agreste mansion, the only sounds being the passing city and eventually the garage door opening. As soon as the car was parked everyone threw open their doors, eager to get out of the toxic environment. Adrien pulled Marinette out of the car, catching her as she stumbled out. Gabriel was already halfway to the mansion’s entrance.

“I’m lifting the food ban,” he announced quietly. He didn’t stop walking. “Have whatever you want tonight.” He moved silently through a door and disappeared from sight. Nathalie, lingering behind, shot Adrien what she probably thought was a sympathetic look, but to Marinette it just looked condescending.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said before hurrying after Gabriel. The devastated look on Adrien’s face tore Marinette’s heart into pieces. Her free arm wrapped around his shoulders to pull him in closer as they walked up to his bedroom. 

“What do you want for dinner?” he asked, voice numb. as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “The cooks can make us anything.”

“I’m fine with anything,” she replied. 

“Are you sure? There isn’t anything special you want?” She faltered under the sad look he was giving her. 

“I, uh, I guess pasta sounds nice.” He nodded and quickly sent a text message off before shoving his phone back in his pocket. “But really, we can have anything you want!”

“No, I’ve already taken up too much of your time. I want to do something special for you since I’ve ruined our date,” he told her.

“You haven’t ruined our date!” she said hurriedly, putting her hands on his shoulders but it was too late. Tears were welling in his eyes and Marinette tried to think of a way to stop the crying before it started. 

“I can’t even give you a good first date. I dragged you to a shoot and then to the police station with us and now we’re having dinner at eleven. I can’t do anything right. I just feel so useless with everything. When I saw her I just screamed and I couldn’t . . . I made my father identify her. I panicked and I made him stare at Mom. I’m horrible! I can’t believe I made him do that. And now I’m just dumping everything on you and you don’t deserve that! You shouldn’t have someone terrible like me in your life.” As the words poured out of his mouth, tears leaked from his eyes until he gave in, full-blown sobs wracking his body. 

“No! No, Adrien, we didn’t know this was going to happen. You shouldn’t blame yourself for all of this happening,” she comforted him, pulling him into her. He tried several times to say something but only sobs and strangled noises came out. Eventually he gave up trying to say anything and only sobbed.

Marinette held him and fought back her own tears as he cried into her shoulder, arms nearly squeezing the life out of her body. There was something terrifying and something heartbreaking in his tears, in his body hitching when he gasped for air, in the primal screams that left his throat, ones that were so raw they made Marinette’s throat hurt. 

She let him release the pent-up sadness, fingers stroking his hair. Once he dwindled down they stood in silence, Adrien’s whimpers filling the air and Marinette continuing to hold him as if their lives depended on it. A knock on his door wrested him from her. She caught the quiet sight that left his lips. He reluctantly let go and opened the door. A few people brought a dolly of food and Adrien murmured his thanks before wheeling it towards her and his coffee table. 

“I didn’t know what you liked so I just asked them to make a few different dishes,” he said, voice hoarse. There had to be at least twelve different bowls of different kinds of pasta, most of which Marinette didn’t even recognize.  _ I don’t even know where to begin, _ she thought as she sat down with him on his couch.  _ I thought when he said pasta he’d just get spaghetti. _

His spirits seemed to lift as they had dinner, making jokes about the people on set at the shoot and about Nino and Alya’s most recent (and failed) date at the park. It seemed distracting him was the best way to make him heal, so Marinette did her best to keep conversations going. Some of them didn’t even make sense (“What’s your opinion on chickpea flour? Is it too pretentious?”), but as long as he didn’t cry again, she was fine with spewing nonsense. After all, she’d done plenty of that in the past.

The pasta and bread went by quickly between of them and Adrien graciously cleaned up, putting dirty plates back on the dolly and wheeling it out of their way. 

“So, uh, do you want to watch a movie or something?” he asked. “I . . . I’m not really sure how this date thing is supposed to go.”

“A movie sounds good. Or a show. I’m okay with anything.” He frowned.

“I feel like tonight’s just been all about me. You choose what we watch.”

“I suggested pasta for dinner. It hasn’t been all about you,” she reminded him.

“But it was all kinds  _ I _ liked.”

“I ended up liking them too. Just pick something you think we’d both like.” She wanted to tell him to pick something that could cheer him up, but she didn’t want to accidentally upset him. He gave her a sad, but thankful, look. Apparently he knew what she wanted to say. As she grabbed and spread out a blanket over her lap, he flipped through his library and brought up a show. 

“Please don’t laugh, okay? This show is really good,” he said. She smirked and laid back on the cushions, pulling a blanket over her lap.

“I’m not going to laugh,” she told him. He pressed play and made it full screen before sitting back with her, pulling some of the blanket onto him.  _ “Love Live!?” _ she asked. He blushed and alarm flashed in his eyes.

“You said you weren’t going to laugh!”

“I’m not! I just think it’s cute,” she said. 

It took a while to get used to the high-pitched voices of the voice actresses, but the show  _ was _ pretty cute. Three girls becoming pop sensations to save their school: what could be cuter than that? With the subtitles on, they were even able to sing-along together with the girls. Adrien, it seemed, knew all of the songs by heart and put her to shame. 

As they plowed through the show, hours went by. Adrien gradually slumped closer to Marinette until she realized he had fallen asleep. There was a childlike innocence in him as he curled up to her side, burrowing into her for comfort and warmth. It was late, but Marinette didn’t want to leave him. 

Her parents would freak out if she didn’t come home. Would they even believe her if she said she was going to Alya’s for a sleepover? Would it just be easier to beg for forgiveness after the fact? She’d never acted out before and she knew her parents wouldn’t think she was staying over for sex. Still, staying at a boy’s house, especially when he had asked her on a date, was something her parents wouldn’t allow. 

But Adrien needed her. What if he woke up in the middle of the night and needed someone to comfort him? Helping him through this was more important to her than getting punished. She gently reached over him for her phone and texted her parents. They weren’t going to be happy, but she needed to tell them what was going on.  _ The last thing I want is them being worried about where I am, _ she thought. She sent the message to her mother and silenced the phone before chucking it across the room. She didn’t want her phone blowing up and frankly, she didn’t want to deal with the repercussions on her decision right now. 

Readjusting to lie down more comfortably, she pulled Adrien closer and rested her head on his before turning  _ Love Live! _ off. Her dreams were full of bleak waiting rooms and Adrien’s screams.

 

The alarm clock went off far too soon for Marinette’s liking. Adrien outright groaned and burrowed in closer to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest. What wouldn’t she give to stay like this forever?

“Do you think we could sleep for five more minutes?” she asked, making him chuckle.

“I wish. But we’re going to be late if we don’t get up.”  _ Are you kidding me?! _ she thought as she checked the time when she and Adrien got off the couch.  _ We have two hours until school starts! That’s plenty of time to sleep in a little! _ Fighting back a groan, she slumped forward to rest her arms on her thighs. She hadn’t realized how rumpled sleeping could make her clothes. It looked like she had been doing far more than sleeping last night. Her house was right around the corner but facing her parents this early wasn’t something she wanted to do and wearing her clothes to school was out of the question. 

“Uh, could I borrow some clothes? Or at least a shirt? I don’t want people think I’m making a  walk of shame, or something,” she asked. 

“Yeah, of course,” he yawned. He motioned for her to follow him. He threw open a door, revealing the largest walk-in closet Marinette had ever seen in her life. “Feel free to wear whatever. You can even keep it if you want. I don’t wear most of this stuff anyway.” As Adrien picked out his own outfit, Marinette wandered around, fingers prying into clothes. Some of them (the ones from his father’s lines) still had tags on them.  _ I wish I had a closet like this back at home, _ she thought wistfully. She pulled a soft damask-printed shirt off a hanger and managed to find leggings that looked like they had never been worn before. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, clutching his clothes to his chest. “There’s a bathroom down the hall if you want to take one too.”

“I’d like that. Thanks.” He gave her directions and she went off. Marinette found the bathroom a few doors down and locked the door behind her.  _ Mr. Agreste really put some money into this house, _ she thought, looking from the marble counters to the large shower with frosted and embossed glass. Not to mention there were so many doors. She peaked behind them and found a toilet, a sauna (a sauna!), a dressing room. 

Wasting no time, she went into the dressing room and stripped down. The cold air slapping her skin made her shiver. She hurriedly grabbed a fluffy towel from a stand and got into the shower. It took a few presses of random buttons and turning the handle several different ways before warm water came rushing out. A content sigh escaped her lips and she hurriedly started washing up. It was an alien feeling, taking a shower in someone else’s home. 

Once she was done bathing and getting ready for the day, she found Adrien waiting outside the door, eyes trained on his phone.

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” she asked nervously. He shook his head. 

“No, you’re fine,” he replied. He handed her her backpack. “I just figured I’d wait for you out here.” A mischievous glint shone in his eyes. “I can’t risk you getting lost in here.” She rolled her eyes and lightly punched his arm. It was moments like these he reminded her so much of Chat Noir that the resemblance seemed uncanny. “How about I lead you down to the dining room and we have breakfast?”

“That sounds fantastic.” Just like Adrien’s bedroom and the bathroom, the Agreste dining room was a spectacle in its own right. Marinette had only seem rooms this big and grand in movies.  _ How can someone live here and eat here like it’s no big deal? _

They sat down and didn’t have time to breathe before a few cooks came out of the kitchen door and placed several platters of pastries and fruit and assorted foods in front of them. She quietly thanked them and helped herself to a croissant. Taking a bite, she had to fight the urge to spit it out. It was terrible, but she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. After all, he was feeding her and let her sleep and bathe here. The last thing she wanted to do was insult him. 

“If I had known Marinette was living here now I would have had the room next to yours refurbished,” Nathalie said coldly as her heels clacked sharply against the marble floor. He murmured an excuse under his breath, face bright red.

“I-I’m sorry, I fell asleep while we watched a show last night,” Marinette replied hurriedly. Heat was burning her face and she knew it made her look guilty. 

“Sure you did. I expect you two to be using protection and being responsible,” Nathalie replied. She paused, cold blue eyes looking from Adrien to Marinette. “I’m not going to tell your father. But only this once, okay? If this happens again I’m not going to keep secrets.”

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Adrien said quietly.  _ What? You’re not going to tell her the truth? You’re not going to argue with her, _ Marinette thought in irritation as Nathalie handed him a tablet and continued talking.  _ You’re just going to let her think we had sex? _

“The photo shoot is going to go longer today. You’re in five different segments. Marinette, we’ve still heard nothing from Nicole so you’ll be taking her spot today. You’re in six segments. Be prepared to change quickly.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Was this how Adrien spent his mornings? In a huge dining room eating gross food and getting his ear talked off by Nathalie?

“Mr. Agreste would like you to travel to the shoot with Adrien and stay near him or Marie-Christine. You still need to learn about what to do at photo shoots and he wants to make sure you’re around the more responsible models,” she said. Marinette nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Okay girl, you have to give me the details,” Alya demanded as soon as the lunch bell rang. Marinette groaned and looked to see who was around. Only Adrien, Nino, and a few others Marinette trusted, but they were leaving the classroom quickly to go get something to eat. Marinette and Alya lingered, letting the boys go on ahead so they could talk. “You came to school with Adrien after a date! I  _ have _ to know what happened!”

“Alya!” Marinette hissed. “Not here!” 

“You can’t just not tell me,” she argued. 

“It’s not like that, okay?” Marinette dropped her voice. “We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“What about other stuff?” Alya wiggled her eyebrows. 

“No.” 

“Damn. I was really itching to hear something juicy.” 

“Sorry I dashed your hopes.” 

“So if you weren’t doing the do, what did you guys get up to?”

“We had dinner and watched this cutesy anime before falling asleep.” 

“Nothing else?”

“Why are you wanting me to sleep with him so badly?” Alya laughed and shook her head.

“I’m not. I just expected it after years of sexual tension.” She coughed. “I heard how they found and identified his mother. Were you . . . ?” Marinette slowed hard. She’d have Alya’s teasing over this anyday.

“I wasn’t in the room but I heard what happened. I was in the waiting room while they ID’d the body,” Marinette explained. Alya shuddered.

“I can’t imagine having to do that. How is he holding up?” Marinette shook her head. “At least he’s got you and the rest of us. It’s so weird they just found her body. She’s been missing for a while.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed. “And she was found in such a public place. I can’t imagine the police just missing her body all these years.”

“Do you think someone killed her recently? That she’s been hiding underground and something shady happened?” Alya asked in a hushed voice.

“Emilie isn’t -  _ wasn’t _ \- like that. I heard officers saying that when she’d initially been missing they found her blood and thought she’d been taken against her will. I don’t think she left willingly,”

“I hope that’s the case. Adrien doesn’t deserve two shitty parents,” Alya said and Marinette nodded.  _ You got that right. _

 

The remainder of school was uneventful as was the photoshoot. She and Adrien picked up more couple shots, these ones much less provocative than the ones done the day before. When the shoot ended and the Agreste’s driver dropped her off at her parents’ bakery, Marinette wanted to throw up.  _ It’s going to be okay. Just be honest with them, _ she told herself as she went upstairs and unlocked the front door. Her parents were sitting at the kitchen table and as soon as they saw their daughter walk in, they pounced.

“Marinette, what were you thinking?” Sabine demanded. “Telling us you’re sleeping over at a boy’s house and then not answering your phone all day?!”

“I’m sorry -”

“You had us worried sick,” Tom told her. “Never ignore us like that again.” Marinette nodded, trying to ignore the swelling in her throat.

“I promise.” Sabine sighed and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. 

“I want to be clear. I trust you and Adrien but I don’t think spending the night at his house is a good idea.”  _ Then that would mean you  _ don’t  _ trust Adrien or me, _ Marinette thought. “Not to mention we’re angry that you ignored us all day and came home so late.”

“You’re grounded for two weeks and when you’re home, you have to give us your phone,” Tom said.

“But Papa!”

“No buts. You can’t do this to us, Marinette,” Sabine said forcefully, “Once you come home from school, you turn your phone into us and you get it back as you go to school the next day. No friends and no outings for two weeks.”

“Is this a bad time to mention a have a job?” Her parents gawked at her. “A model has been MIA at Adrien’s shoot and they brought me into sub for her.” Sabine sighed.

“How much is it paying?” 

“One hundred euros a day. And the shoot lasts for five more days” Sabine glanced over at Tom. 

“You can keep modelling, but we expect reports on when you’re coming home and where you are,” Tom said. 

“Thank you, Papa, Mama,” she said. 

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Sabine informed her. Marinette nodded and handed her phone over before trudging up to her room. As soon as the hatch was closed, Tikki left her purse and Marinette went into full ranting mode. 

“How am I supposed to keep up with Ladybug duties if I’m grounded?!” Marinette demanded.

“How is this any different than usual?” Tikki asked. “Just sneak out like you usually do.”

“But what if they come in and check on me and see I’m gone? Do you know how much trouble I’ll be in if that happens?” she replied.

“What else can they do? You’re already grounded and they’ve taken away your phone. They can’t take away your tablet because of school work and you have everything on there,” Tikki pointed out.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make this longer than it has to be!” she cried. “Two weeks is going to drag on. After the photoshoot I’m not going to be allowed to go on another date with Adrien!” Marinette groaned, burying her face in her arms. “This can’t get any worse,” she complained. 

“Don’t say that! You’ll jinx yourself,” Tikki said and Marinette sighed. The kwami had a point. It wasn’t the end of the world but being grounded wasn’t something good. It’d hurt her job as Ladybug and her social life, but as long as she could get through these two weeks without getting additional punishment, she’d be good to go. 

 

Although Marinette’s dreams were less terrifying than the previous night, she still felt unrested and wanted to go back to sleep. She wanted to go back to sleep and she wanted to cuddle with Adrien. That’s all she wanted, but sadly, that wasn’t going to happen. Marinette dragged herself out of bed and got ready for the day before trudging downstairs, Tikki hidden away in her purse. 

A plate of croissants were on the table and she dug right in. Her parents were down at the bakery, thank God, and she was able to let Tikki out of her purse to have breakfast with her. The two ate in silence, letting the morning news fill the void.

“After discovering the body of Emilie Agreste yesterday, police have found another body of a missing model. Nicole Champlain, twenty-six, was found near the Louvre by security guards early this morning. Champlain went missing five days ago and had been reported missing by her boyfriend. Police are still looking for suspects and declined to speak with us about Champlain or Agreste’s cases and whether or not they’re linked.” Marinette’s blood turned cold.  _ Nicole? Wasn’t that the name of the model whose place she took? The one who Marie-Christine said had been ignoring her calls? _

“Tikki, this . . . this can’t be an akuma, can it?” she asked. 

“It’s true we’ve had murderous akuma in the past, but I don’t know if that’s the case. There are bad people in the world and it could just be some sicko and not an akuma,” Tikki said.  _ But bodies being found within the span of two days, _ Marinette thought as her blue eyes diverted from the news.  _ That just doesn’t seem right. Not to mention both had something to do with the Agrestes. First Adrien’s mother and now a model in one of his father’s photo shoots. Maybe Ladybug should look into the matter. _


	3. Chapter 3

A blonde blur flew at Marinette as she entered the prep trailer, making the teenager stumble backwards and hit a wall. Marie-Christine was sobbing into Marinette’s shoulder and her arms were wrapped tightly around her like a python around its prey. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she wailed as she buried her face in Marinette’s shoulder. Already her sleeve was damp with Marie-Christine’s tears. Adrien gave the model a sad look and rubbed her shoulder. “First Emilie and now Nicole. I . . . God, Adrien, how are you holding it together right now?” As quickly as she latched onto Marinette, Marie-Christine grabbed Adrien, easily towering over him and crying into his hair. 

“Someone has to be the strong one, Emcé,” he said, continuing to pat her back. She sniffed and leaned back, digging into her pocket.

“Why is this happening? They didn’t do anything to deserve this,” Marie-Christine sniffled, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “I was hoping they’d be found alive, that they wouldn’t be . . .” Another round of sobs wracked her body and she slumped against Adrien again. For a brief moment, Marinette wanted to drag her off of Adrien. Although the Marie-Christine was far older than them, Marinette disliked how clingy she was acting towards Adrien. It reminded her of Chloé. Jean entered the trailer, giving the three a sympathetic look.    
“Adrien, you should go get ready. I’ll take care of Marie-Christine and Marinette,” he said. Adrien gave Marie-Christine one last hug and squeezed Marinette’s hand before dragging himself out of the trailer. 

“Give me five, Jean. I need to go wash up real fast.” She didn’t even wait for him to give her permission or not, leaving the trailer. Jean sighed and motioned for Marinette to sit down.

“Mr. Agreste should have given her and Adrien the day off,” he sighed. He grabbed a comb and undid her pigtails before brushing them out. “Marie-Christine’s been distraught since the police showed up yesterday.”

“Did she know Adrien’s mom?” she asked. Jean gave her a quizzical look. 

“Of course she did. She’s Adrien’s cousin. Emilie is -  _ was _ \- her mom’s sister.”  _ Cousins? How come Adrien’s never mentioned her? _ She felt a flash of guilt for her earlier jealousy. Jean sighed as he grabbed a straightener. “From my understanding, she never saw Emilie all that much but her heart’s too big for her body.” After a quick runthrough with the straightener he spun Marinette around and started applying a creamy burgundy eyeliner on her. “How’s Adrien holding up?” 

“He’s been better,” she replied. 

“I can imagine. We all hoped Emilie would come home safely, but I guess that wasn’t in the cards.” 

“Did you work with her a lot?”

“I did. I’ve been with the Agreste gang since before Gabriel started designing professionally.” She nodded. She wondered whether she should ask more questions, but the hard look in his eyes seemed to tell her no. The trailer fell silent as Jean worked his magic, painting her eyelids, putting light matte lipstick on her, rubbing away any imperfection with foundation and concealer. Marinette tried hard not to wince; two days of constantly taking makeup on and off was making her face sore and it she had to feel another Q-Tip on her eyelid she was going to scream and curl up into a ball. 

Today’s workload was considerably less than yesterday’s, and for that Marinette thanked her lucky stars, but as she sat watching the other models, she couldn’t help but feel worried. What if one of her coworkers were next? What if Adrien was next? Or Marie-Christine? As models came and went in front of her, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder if she’d see the news reporting them dead. 

_ I have to do something, _ she realized.  _ I need to intervene as Ladybug. _

 

Ladybug flew across Parisian rooftops as she made her way towards the police station. Just five minutes ago she called Chat Noir and asked him to meet her, saying they were going on a patrol of the city. And maybe they would, but really she just needed to talk to him about the situation going on. As usual, he arrived at their meeting place on time, a cocky grin on his lips. 

“Long time no see, my lady,” Chat said, bowing to her and kissing her hand. 

“Yeah, it’s been a week, hasn’t it?” she realized. A whole week without an akuma attack. While she appreciated the break, she had to admit she did miss her partner in that dead time. 

“It’s been far too long. I’m glad you called me. I think patrolling the city would be a  _ paws _ -itively great thing.” She chuckled and swatted at his arm. When did his puns actually make her laugh? 

“Actually, I have a lead on something,” she told him. He gave her a curious look. 

“A lead? Why aren’t we over there now purifying the akuma?” he asked

“Well, I’m not completely sure it  _ is _ an akuma,” she explained. “But I’ve been thinking about this for a while and, well. You know how they just found the bodies of Emilie Agreste and Nicole Champlain?” Chat’s face fell ever so slightly,

“Do you really think it could be an akuma doing this?” he asked critically. “We’ve never had an akuma that’s bent on murdering people and dumping their bodies. Not to mention Emilie Agreste went missing years ago. I don’t think an akuma could last that long.”

“I don’t know! It just seems weird that in the span of two days, two dead models have been found. I know Mrs. Agreste went missing years ago but this kind of MO fits an akuma. A specific type of person is being attacked here. Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?” she inquired.  _ Why was he fighting me on this? Normally he’s so gung-ho to save people, _ she thought.

“It’s suspicious but I don’t think it’s an akuma. That would mean Emilie walked out on her family and was only killed recently,” he argued. She noted the heated note in his voice and felt a jolt of guilt.  

“Well, maybe the discovery of Emilie’s body sparked an akuma. Her husband -”

“Are you even listening to yourself? There’s no way an akuma’s been out there for four years and we haven’t known about it. And I know Gabriel Agreste is a cold man, but he’s not been akumatized. Don’t you think one of us or one of our kwamis would have known about it by now?” he argued. He had a point. Tikki or his kwami would have told them. And she knew none of the Agreste were akumatized. But there was something fishy going on and if it meant grasping for straws in order to get Chat Noir on her side, then by all means she’d do it.. “I hate to say it, but I think we’re just dealing with some psycho here.”

“But it’s one kind of victim -”

“Jack the Ripper had one kind of victim and he wasn’t an akuma! Ladybug, we’re not dealing with an akuma right now!” Chat Noir  _ never _ raised his voice with her. And maybe under normal circumstances she’d back off immediately. But this was serious and in that moment, Marinette just wanted to get through to him and prove him wrong. 

“It’s still our duty to protect people!” she cried.

“We only fight against akumas and Hawkmoth! Can’t we just leave this to the police?”

“No, I can’t! I can’t just sit by idly when there’s something terrible going on! What if Adrien is next?” Stillness hung in the air as they both froze. He looked shocked, green eyes wide as he stared down at her. 

“Adrien?”

“He’s . . .” She sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was break Chat’s heart by telling him she was dating someone. He was already upset enough. “Adrien Agreste is my friend and since his mother and a fellow model have been killed, I don’t want him to be next. I couldn’t live with myself if he was murdered and I just sat around and did nothing to stop it!” The air fell silent as Chat stared at her. For once in her life, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

“We have a duty to Paris to protect its citizens, that’s true, but I don’t know if we should get involved with this,” he said softly. “But if you’re going to look into it, I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

“So you’ll help me?” she asked. He smirked.

“Since when have I left you on your own?”

 

The police station was buzzing with activity as Ladybug and Chat Noir made their way to the records room, a young detective leading them through the maze of desks and hallways. 

“We’re still looking for leads,” the detective, Juliette, informed them. “So far we haven’t found any enemies, mutual or otherwise, between Agreste and Champlain.”

“Do you think they’re connected?” Chat asked.

“Yes. At both crime scenes there was a folder containing photographs of the women. We ran them for DNA but no such luck.” Juliette opened a door and motioned them inside. It was bleak and filing cabinets lined the room, towering all the way to the ceiling. She went to a drawer and rifled through it quickly before pulling out two folders. “We’re still conducting research on Agreste’s body, if you’d like to check that out for anything.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Chat spoke up. 

“What about Champlain’s? Have you determined cause of death for her? Or Agreste?” Ladybug asked. 

“That’s what we’re looking at now for Agreste and we have two theories. Either blood loss or head trauma. We’re still trying to figure out which came first.” Juliette was still clutching the folders and Ladybug could see her knuckles were white. 

“I see. Can we look at the photographs now?” she asked politely, hand stretching out for them. Juliette bit her lip but nodded.

“Be warned, they’re pretty graphic,” she said before handing the folders over to Ladybug and Chat Noir.  _ Let’s start with Champlain, _ Marinette thought, putting Nicole’s folder on a table and spreading the photos out.

Chat Noir blanched and Ladybug felt her blood freeze. Nicole didn’t even look like a person anymore. Her face had been skinned and slashed to the point that Marinette wondered how in the world they could have identified her; she looked so alien. Her legs were spread and her pelvis was completely decimated, organs everywhere and no trace of intact skin anywhere. Her abdomen was sliced open and ribs cracked. Blood was everywhere and a dry ache shot through Ladybug’s throat. 

“Did these . . . did these happen after she died?” Ladybug asked, trying to steady her voice.

“We don’t think so,” the officer replied gravely. She nodded, trying to remain as stoic as possible. “We can’t determine her cause of death because of this. Her body is just too ruined to get much information out of it, but we tried. ” Juliette pointed to a few other photos. “These photos were sent to a friend of Champlain’s and some were found at the crime scene.” 

“The killer sent her these photos?” Chat inquired.

“Yes. A few of Emilie’s were sent to her husband as well and we have those now. It’s probably a calling card of some kind.” The photos in question featured Nicole, still alive but looking utterly miserable. Her face caught in silent screams as demonic traps sliced her and pure agony on her face as several objects were forced into her. Marinette felt bile rising in her throat and swallowed it back down. Only a few photos could be considered “tame,” Nicole gagged and tied into sexual positions, the fear on her face breaking Ladybug’s heart. How much had this poor girl gone through before she died?

“Who would do something like this?” she wondered.

“We don’t know. Obviously someone with a sick mind. We’re trying to get a hold of a few informants in the underground porn industry and seeing if they may know who did this. Right now that’s our only lead,” Juliette replied. 

“Are Agreste’s this bad?” Ladybug asked. Juliette said nothing, plucking the folder out of her hands and spreading the photos over Nicole’s.

“Agreste’s body may have been in better shape, but Nicole seemed to have better treatment,” Juliette answered darkly. Ladybug glanced down at the photos and slumped forwards, hands propping herself up. 

Dozens of photos of Emilie, all black and white, depicted so many different tortures that Ladybug didn’t know whether she wanted to vomit, pass out, scream, or all. Emilie was tied down in uncomfortable positions, some sexual and some not. Sometimes she was covered in semen, sometimes Marinette didn’t even want to know what was on her body. But all of the photos showed some kind of bloodcurdling torture, rape, or both. Her eyes teared up, looking through the photos as Emilie’s face went from sheer agony to a dull, numb look, as if she had already felt enough pain for one lifetime and was just waiting for the release of death. And given the amount of photos and the bruises that came and went, she didn’t get that release quickly.

A retching sound dragged her attention away from the photographs and over to Chat. He was bent over a trashcan, pale as a sheet. He stood back up slightly before his stomach heaved again, vomit spewing from his lips and onto his hands. 

“Chat?!” Ladybug demanded, hurrying over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, cheeks puffing out and tears running from his eyes. 

“There’s a bathroom around the corner,” Juliette told them. He ran there, Marinette trailing behind him. As soon as he reached the small room, another bout of vomit poured from his mouth into a sink, coughing and chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. She grabbed a few paper towels and helped him clean up his mouth. Silvery tears tracks stained his face and his eyes were red, more tears welling up in them.  _ I shouldn’t have done this. I should have come alone, _ she thought.

“I’m sorry, Chat,” she said, wiping away some excess vomit on his chin. “I should have listened to you and let you stay out of this.”

“We didn’t know it would be this bad,” he said. He started washing his hands. “I just . . . why would someone do that? Why the hell would someone do that to two innocent women?” 

“I don’t know. If you don’t want to help with the case, you don’t have to. I’m fine taking this on my own -”

“No. After seeing that, I can’t just let some disgusting piece of shit do that to more women. Emilie and Nicole deserve justice.” She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. Wordlessly, his arms wrapped around her and the two embraced. His breathing had slowed down a little but it was still far from normal. He just needed some time. Maybe the officers would let him lie down somewhere while he recuperated. 

Rapid footsteps echoed outside the bathroom door, wordless shouting penetrating the rooms. What in the world? Ladybug propped the door open to poke her head out. Several officers were running around, grabbing their things as if to flee. 

“What’s going on?” she demanded to a nearby man as he loaded his gun. 

“Another body has been found.”

 

Marinette didn’t know how she was supposed to sleep that night. Every time she shut her eyes she could see Emilie being raped by demonic figures, Nicole’s decimated body, poor Arnaud, the latest victim, lying on a gurney. Maybe Chat had been right all along. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten involved. But what if the killer targeted Adrien next? Or Marie-Christine? Or Gabriel? Clearly the killer was slaughtering models and they all had targets on their backs. Even she did, as much as she hated to admit it. 

She looked down at her alarm clock. It was midnight. She’d gone to bed hours ago and while she was exhausted, she couldn’t sleep and frankly, she was terrified about the dreams she would have after seeing all that death. This wasn’t her expertise. Akumas never killed anyone. This time, there was no Lucky Cure to save anyone.

Silently, to not wake Tikki, she got up and went down into the kitchen. Maybe some warm milk would help soothe her. The living room was dark, only a few rays of moonlight streaming in from the windows. She could hear the light strains of her parents’ TV from downstairs; they fell asleep to the TV every night and doubted they’d be awake so late. As she reached for the fridge door a faint scratching and knocking sound filled the room.  _ What? What is that, _ she wondered. The noise continued to fill the room.  _ It sounds like something’s at the door. _ Grabbing a long knife, she inched towards the door and looked through the peephole.

“Adrien?!” she demanded in a hushed whisper as she flung the door open. He was dressed in his pajamas, a light sweatshirt thrown over his torso. His hair was far messier than she’d ever seen it before and he looked whiter than a ghost. “Adrien, what -” He cut her off, throwing his arms around her and pulling her into a rib-crushing hug.

“You weren’t answering your phone and I got scared,” he murmured. “I came by to check on you.” His green eyes flitted to the knife. “Were you going to stab me?!”

“I didn’t know who it was!” she explained, ducking back to the kitchen to sheathe it. “You shouldn’t be out when there’s some crazy model killer on the loose.”

“I thought he got you.” She froze at the way his words got caught in his throat. His eyes were bigger than saucers and gleaming. “I thought something happened to you.”

“Hey, I’m fine,” she replied soothingly, putting her arms around his neck. 

“I can’t stop seeing her. I can’t stop seeing my mom and I thought . . .” His voice broke and he pulled her into him again, burying his face in his neck. “Please let me stay the night. I need you.” Her parents would kill her if they caught them. She was supposed to be grounded. But Adrien needed her and it would be unsafe to send him back home. Even if they lived close by, there was no guarantee he’d make it back to his house. Marinette nodded and led him upstairs.

He stripped off his sweatshirt as he crawled into bed beside her. Arms wrapped around torsos and legs tangled with each other. Adrien buried his face into her neck, his hot breath warming her skin. His heart was pounding against her and she imagined hers was too. Never had she been so close to someone, and certainly hadn’t been in such an intimate position like this before. It sent adrenaline coursing through her veins and excitement gave way to a warm, comfortable feeling. This felt right. This was exciting and comforting all at the same time. 

Gradually, their hearts slowed down and Marinette felt herself fall into a deep sleep, a black void where the only thing she could feel was the warmth of Adrien’s body. 


	4. Chapter 4

Adrien was still sleeping beside Marinette when the sensation of little arms prodding her cheek woke her up. Her eyes burned and stung, but kept them open to see her kwami hovering right in her face.

“Your mom’s coming!” Tikki cried in a hushed voice before flitting out of sight. Marinette jolted up and started shaking Adrien awake.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, words slurred.

“Hide! My mom’s coming!” That woke him up. He nearly shot out of the covers, darting across the room and throwing himself behind her chaise and a trunk. Not a moment later Sabine came through the hatch, Marinette’s cell phone in hand.

“Yes, of course, I’ll hand the phone over to her right now.” Marinette met her mother halfway down the steep staircase to her bed, reaching for her phone. “It’s a woman named Nathalie,” Sabine informed her quietly.  _ Oh crap, _ Marinette thought. 

“Hi, Nathalie,” Marinette answered the phone.  _ Act natural! Tell her you have no idea where Adrien is! Just stay calm, cool, and collected!  _

“Good morning, Marinette. I hope you slept well last night. I have some bad news,” she said as Marinette’s eyes followed her mother, who sat down at her desk chair.  _ STAY CALM, MARINETTE. _ “Some information about the shoot was leaked last night. Gabriel’s stepped up security, but there are bound to be a few breaches. There always are. So I want you to be careful and alert on set today, all right? The last thing we need is a leaked photograph, not to mention perverts seem to flock to modelling like moths to a flame. Just make sure no one takes a photo of you but the photographer, okay?”  _ Shouldn’t you be telling the perverts to get lost, _ Marinette thought critically. 

“Got it. Thank you, Nathalie,” she replied.

“You’re welcome. And tell Adrien he’s in trouble when he comes back home tonight. His father and I will deal with him.” Marinette gave a nervous, strangled laugh.

“I-I’m sorry? Adrien’s not here.”

“Don’t play games with us, Marinette, we know where he is. Just rely the message for me, please, since he’s not answering his phone.”

“Okay, can do when I see him  _ at school.” _ She quickly hung up before Nathalie could get another word in. Her mother’s eyes were boring holes into her and part of her was surprised she didn’t burst into flames from it.

“So Adrien’s missing?” Sabine asked.

“I-I-I guess so,” Marinette shrugged.  _ Please go and let me get ready for school. _ Sabine paused. 

“Adrien, I know you’re hiding behind the chaise.” He sighed and stood up, face cherry red and eyes cast to the ground. 

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Cheng. This is my fault. I came over last night and asked to stay over and I’m sorry I didn’t ask you and Mr. Dupain permission and -” He stopped abruptly as Sabine put her hand up. 

“I don’t have a problem with you sleeping over, but Tom and I have an issue with you sneaking over when she’s supposed to be grounded. We’re not going to ban you from the house but you need to respect our punishment,” she said firmly.

“I will. It won’t happen again, I promise,” he replied hurriedly. Poor thing looked like he was going to pass out at any moment. 

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” Adrien glanced at Marinette, still looking awkward and uncomfortable.

“I, uh, I-I should probably go home and get ready for school,” he said, inching towards the open hatch ever so slightly. “I’ll see you at school, Marinette.”

“I’ll see you then.” He hightailed it out of the room, running down the stairs and out the front door. Sabine glanced back up at her daughter.  

“I don’t have an issue with sleepovers, but your father does. Tell Adrien he should steer clear of Tom for a few days.” Marinette’s face turned redder than her Ladybug suit.

“O-okay, Mama.” 

 

To say the drive to the shoot was awkward was an understatement. Nathalie seemed to be giving her dirty looks and Gabriel was as aloof as ever. The two teenagers were staring down at the floor, both praying they’d get to the shoot soon.

“I hope Adrien told you he’s grounded,” Gabriel finally spoke up, making Marinette jump.

“I told her this afternoon, sir,” Adrien answered.  _ Sir? Why so formal? You’d think he wasn’t Adrien’s dad, _ Marinette thought. 

“Good. If you’re going to do that again, I’d much rather have you both in our house. I don’t trust you staying anywhere.” Nathalie snorted at Adrien and Marinette’s beet-red faces.  _ Did he . . . Did he just tell us that we could have sleepovers?! _ “I’m joking. Don’t do it again.” 

Marinette and Adrien couldn’t leave the car fast enough, leaving Nathalie and Gabriel in their wake. They parted in silence, going to their trailers to get ready. Today the small space was far more crowded than it had ever been. Marinette hadn’t realized how large the shoot was. Five other models were crammed into the space as well as four crew members. 

“What’s with everyone here?” Marinette asked Marie-Christine as she took a spot next to the tall blonde. A woman she didn’t know immediately pounced, pulling out Marinette’s hair ties and messing with her hair.

“We’re doing group shots. It’s swimsuit day,” Marie-Christine replied. “Don’t look so scared. It’s not that terrifying, I promise.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Unless you have something to hide.”

“No! Of course I don’t!” Marinette retorted. 

“Then you have nothing to worry about. But really. If it’s bothering you, just think of it like this. Everything essential will be covered. And you’ll have a robe to wear in between takes.”

“Really?”

“Really.” The pair fell silent for a moment. 

“Hey, Marie-Christine?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to answer me, but how come you and Adrien never hang out? I mean, you’re cousins but you don’t seem close.” The blonde sighed, looking down at her feet. 

“Gabriel never liked my mom and didn’t want her around Aunt Emilie or Adrien. Since she couldn’t be over, I couldn’t visit. I mean, of course we saw each other when we were kids, you know during holidays, but not a lot. And then once Emilie vanished, Gabriel outright banned my mom.” She slumped in her chair. “Emilie and Mom had a falling out shortly before she went missing.”

“Oh.” 

“It’s in the past. What matters now is us getting closure and who knows, if Gabriel’s letting me model for him, maybe Adrien and I can start making up for lost time.”

 

This time, Marinette and Marie-Christine were the ones waiting around for Adrien. Marie-Christine insisted on Marinette meeting and befriending the other models, but she wasn’t sure about them. They were so pretty and she knew she shouldn’t be jealous, but she couldn’t help but envy their beauty. Not to mention a few of them were less than kind, but a few harsh words from Marie-Christine was enough to shut them up. 

“Sorry I took so long,” Adrien said as he joined the group, arm slinging over Marinette’s shoulder. “There was an outfit mix-up we had to take care of.”

“No worries. I’m just glad you got here before Jérémy blew up,” a model replied, smirking as the photographer was talking with Nathalie, arms flailing wildly. “I mean, as weird as Inocencio was with his love of spaghetti at least he never yelled at us like Jérémy does.”

“Oh my God, I know, right?” another model piped up. “Just because he was married to Chanel Clement-Dupont doesn’t make him a good photographer. I swear, I don’t know why Gabriel changed photographers.”

“Inocencio had to go back to Italy for the week and couldn’t make it. His mom died and he has to take care of the funeral,” a male model said. 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to do your job?!” Marinette cringed as Jérémy turned to their group, a scowl on his face. 

“Sorry!” Adrien called back to him. A few of the other grumbled but started moving towards the pool, shedding their robes and putting them over chairs and tables. There was a pit in Marinette’s stomach that only got worse as her fingers tugged at her belt. She was the last to take her robe off, shivering and feeling sick as she placed her robe with Adrien’s.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hand squeezing her shoulder. 

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I just feel really uncomfortable in this,” she said, hugging her sides tighter. Even though her swimsuit wasn’t revealing, she still felt naked. She didn’t want to show off so much skin and have it published in a high-profile magazine for just anyone to see. Around friends, sure, that was fine, but in front of loads of strangers from all ends of the earth? No thank you. 

“It’ll be over before you know it,” Adrien said soothingly, rubbing her skin. There was just one group shot to do and thankfully Marinette was a model that had to get in the pool, water ocvering part of her. But still, she had never felt so vulnerable in front of the camera; not even with akumas did she feel the same kind of apprehension, skin crawling and stomach violently swirling. 

But it seemed things were just going to get worse. 

Marinette sat behind the camera with Adrien, watching as every model took individual shots. Currently Marie-Christine was up in a one-piece suit that exaggerated her curves. On camera, she looked like a goddess but when the camera wasn’t flashing, she looked just as awkward and uncomfortable as Marinette felt. For every direction Jérémy gave her, Gabriel ruled it out, telling her to do something else. Tension in the air was rising quickly. Now it wasn’t just about getting this over with; now it was finishing the shoot just to leave. When Marinette’s name was called, she bit back vomit and reluctantly went to the set-up. 

“Look at the camera and smirk like you’re better than everyone else,” Jérémy instructed her. “Pop your hip on and put a hand there.” She did what he asked, praying it would be over soon. “No, I want more of a smolder. More sensuality.”

“No,” Gabriel spoke up bluntly. Behind him, Nathalie sighed. “Marinette, ignore him. Just do a peace sign and stand in a power stance. Look adorable and sassy.”  _ He might be mad, but at least he’s looking out for me, _ she thought as she repositioned. But Gabriel couldn’t see the angry looks Jérémy was giving her. Marinette tried her best to not look apprehensive, but when she glanced over at Adrien she could easily see concern written on his face.

“That should be good enough,” Gabriel said after what felt like hours of posing. “You’re done, Marinette.” She murmured her thanks. Adrien rushed out to her with her robe, helping her into it. They started walking back to the dressing rooms when Gabriel caught them by the door. 

“Marinette, Adrien, I need to speak to you for a moment,” he said and Marinette thought she was going to die then and there.

“Of course,” Adrien replied as formal as ever. 

“Adrien, stay close to Marinette. I haven’t liked how Jérémy treats her and I don’t think this is a safe environment for her right now considering what everyone’s modeling. And if it looks like he’s giving Emcé more trouble, intervene if I can’t.”

“No problem,” Adrien nodded. 

“One last thing. Marinette, I’d like to keep you on standby for future photoshoots. You and Adrien work well together.” 

“I would like that. Thank you, sir,” she said, elation building in her stomach. He liked her and he wanted to keep her around, even though she messed up. 

Maybe the ride home wouldn’t be so awkward this time around.  

 

The moon shone brightly in the velvety black sky as the Agrestes, Nathalie, and Marinette travelled back home for the night. The bright lights passing them were nothing compared to the bright television monitor on the car’s console, the whites and pale blues and greys of the local news burning into her eyes. The reporter had an apathetic voice and it nearly lulled Marinette to sleep. Maybe it would have if the subject hadn’t grown so dark. 

“The search for a killer continues. Police have found the body of a fifteen-year-old boy near Notre Dame. It appears he’s connected to the other bodies found but police are refusing to release any more information. The corpse has been identified as Alphonse Javert, a model who went missing six years ago. For safety measures, we suggest . . .”  _ Another body? This is the fourth body they’ve found, _ she thought, stomach dropping.  _ Chat and I need to talk about this. This isn’t getting any better. _

 

The Eiffel Tower was dark as she waited on a support beam for Chat Noir. He said he’d be here soon, but unless he was there in an instant, nothing was soon enough for her. Her skin crawled at the thought of what they were dealing with. Akuma or no, whatever was driving this crime was dark and sinister and it couldn’t be over soon enough.

“My Lady, I’m glad you called,” Chat Noir said as he touched down beside her. “I’ve got something I need to show you.”

“Okay?” she asked, getting to her feet. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked back.

“Of course I trust you,” she replied, offended. He unzipped a pocket and pulled a blindfold out. “Chat?”

“I found a place where we can keep notes about the case, but I can’t let you know where it is,” he said. “Please trust me.” Slowly, she nodded. He wrapped the blindfold around her head tightly, She reached out for his body and wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Hang on.” Traveling through the air was fun, but right now she couldn’t help but gasp a little as she clung to Chat. He moved from beam to beam before jumping across gardens and rooftops. In the dark, she couldn’t tell how he was moving but whatever his method, she hated it and was thankful that she had a yoyo for this kind of thing. 

Chat Noir landed on something and began walking. She could hear doors opening and shutting and finally he stopped. “You can let go now, we’re here,” he told her. She pulled the blindfold off and surveyed her surroundings. The room was clearly a closet, racks of clothes and shoes lining the large space. But it was larger than any closet Marinette had been in before. Hell, there was even a second story loft where she could see even more clothes. 

“Wait, are we in your closet?” she inquired. A blush grew on his cheeks and he looked to the soft carpet beneath his feet. 

“I’m not eighteen yet, I can’t just rent us an apartment for this. And besides, this way I can keep an eye on things and make sure no one comes in here,” he said. “But I have everything we need, look!” he added, gesturing to the tables he had pushed against clothing racks and white boards standing in front of mirrors. “I even brought in a mini fridge and snack stash in case we get hungry.” 

“I still can’t believe our base is your closet,” she said, sitting down on a circular couch. “Who even has a closet this big?”

“I’d love to tell you, but that might give away my identity,” he said with a wink. “Would you rather we have this at your house?”

“No! My room is the size of your closet. I don’t even  _ have _ a closet,” she replied. “Let’s just get to work.”

“Agreed.”

“We know that there’s been four found victims at the moment.” While she talked, Chat grabbed a marker and started writing on the whiteboard. “Emilie Agreste, Nicole Champlain, Arnaud Dupont, and Alphonse Javert. Ages range from fifteen to thirty-five. Clearly, our killer doesn’t discriminate between sex and age.”

“That makes things easy,” Chat commented sarcastically. “We know they must have the same killer and they were all models. That’s a start.”

“Maybe they were all working on the same shoot?” she suggested. “They have to have some kind of link.” 

“That’s possible. I’ll look into it.” Chat went to his laptop and began typing away. “Maybe they all worked for the same designer, or were at the same agency, had the same photographer, did the same events . . .”

“So we have a few variables to look at,” she said. He confirmed it with a nod. Ladybug ventured over and sat beside him. “How do you have access to model’s private info?”

“I have someone working on the inside,” he replied.

“What? Seriously? And you’re just telling me this now?” she demanded.

“It didn’t come up before.” He paused to read some information. “Well, Arnaud and Emilie weren’t at the same agency so we can cross that out. But . . . but it looks like they’ve worked under the same designer.” Marinette’s stomach fell to the floor.

“Don’t tell me,” she groaned. He nodded.

“At some point in time, they were models for Gabriel Agreste.”


	5. Chapter 5

Part of Marinette wished she could learn to drive already. Paris was a big city and even with her yoyo and Chat Noir’s staff, it still took them a long time to travel across the city and at this point, it’d be faster to just drive to their destination. Not to mention they could talk in a car, which they couldn’t easily do right now using their weapons for transportation.  

The neighborhood Ladybug and Chat Noir entered was quiet and serene. A few kids were playing in the yards and a few parents sat on their patios sipping wine and watching the clouds go by. She could see a few concerned looks from the adults as she and Chat walked through. No doubt they were worried they were in danger. But this wasn’t a mission to destroy an akuma. No, it was a mission to get information.

Béatrice LaRoux’s home was unassuming, nearly identical to houses on either side. And the inside looked normal, albeit a little scarcely furnished. 

“We’re sorry to hear about Bijou, Mme. LaRoux,” Chat said as he, Ladybug, and the young woman sat down at her kitchen table. She shrugged, avoiding their eyes.

“It’s been twelve years since I’ve seen my sister. I knew she was dead the entire time,” Béatrice said. “You don’t go missing for twelve years and turn up alive.”

“How exactly was Bijou abducted? The police report said you were there, but there wasn’t much information,” Ladybug asked her.

“There isn’t a lot of information. My sister and I had been kidnapped and forced into a child pornography ring when we were little. One day someone came to the shoot and took Bijou away and that was the last I ever saw of her,” Béatrice informed them.

“Do you remember what he or she looked like?” Chat inquired. Béatrice shook her head. 

“No, I couldn’t get a good look.” She took a sip of her tea. “It’s not uncommon for this to happen. Sometimes we get sold off to other rings or into sex slavery. If the cops hadn’t busted the ring I was in, that would have been my fate once I turned eighteen. I always imagined that’s what happened to her.”

“Did you and your sister do modelling before you were abducted?” Ladybug asked.

“Yeah, we did a little. Our parents wanted us to be famous,” Béatrice replied. “We only ever did two shoots, both with Gabriel Agreste before we were abducted.” Marinette’s stomach sank to the floor. The more they kept digging, the more and more scared she got for Adrien. His mother was already a victim: what if he was next on the list? 

“Thank you for your time, Mme. LaRoux. We’ll be in touch.” Chat Noir gently grabbed Ladybug’s shoulder and helped her to her feet. “At least our theory about Agreste models wasn’t completely off,” he said once they were out the door. “But why would the killer go searching for a model? Why wouldn’t he just let her die in the porn business?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was trying to save her and she saw too much at his house and he had to kill her?” Ladybug guessed. 

“That sounds too cliché. There has to be another piece we’re missing,” he said, fingers ruffling his blond hair.

“Well, the police report said they were walking home from a shoot when they were abducted the first time. Maybe our killer was the one that took him and put them in a child porn ring for safekeeping.”

“I don’t think something like that can count as safekeeping.” Ladybug sighed in frustration, hands tearing at her hair.

“I don’t know. This is just getting more and more complicated. Do you think the other victims has ties to the porn industry?” she mused.

“Absolutely not. Emilie Agreste would have never done porn,” he said. 

“But it’s still something we should look into,” she argued. “What if we’re missing something?”

“Mrs. Agreste wouldn’t do it, but okay. We can still look into it,” he retorted. Ladybug frowned at his biting tone.

“I’m just trying to be thorough, Chat. Don’t be a jerk,” she told him. She paused. “Do you have the time?” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

“It’s almost four.” She sighed and unhooked her yoyo from her waist. 

“My job starts at four, I better get going,” she said. “Let’s regroup tonight and start doing more research.” 

“I can’t do research tonight. My girlfriend might be coming over for dinner and movies.” 

“Oh.”  _ When did he start seeing someone, _ she thought, bewildered. “That’s okay. Maybe tomorrow night we can?”

“Tomorrow works. Until then, Ladybug.” 

 

Marinette was panting as she ran to the shoot, flashing her ID to the security guards before throwing herself into the trailer to get ready.

“Girlie, are you okay?” Marie-Christine asked as Marinette collapsed in a chair.

“Yeah, I just had something to take care of before this and it ran late,” she said.

“Well, I’m glad you got here on time. Jérémy is in such a bad mood it’s not even funny,” Marie-Christine snorted. “Okay, it’s a little funny, but only because I hate him.” 

“Emcé, don’t be rude,” Jean scolded her as he pulled her hair into a ponytail. 

“I’m not! I’m just saying,” she defended herself, throwing her hands in the air. Jean rolled his eyes and patted her on the back. 

“You’re good to go. I’ll take care of Marinette,” he said. She pouted but left, long blonde hair swinging in her ponytail. Jean dipped a brush into a pot of blue glitter, carefully tapping off excess before applying it to her face. “Are you excited this is all over after tonight?”

“Yeah. I never realized how tiring modelling could be,” Marinette chuckled, closing her eyes as he put eyeliner and eyeshadow on her. “I’m ready to leave this behind.”

“It’s a full production, all right. And I wouldn’t be so sure this is your last shoot. I overheard Gabriel talking with Nathalie about the model roster for next season’s clothes and it seriously sounds like you’re going to get an invite,” Jean chirped, a bright smile on his face.

“Are you serious?! But why?” she demanded.  _ I didn’t think Mr. Agreste was seriously going to put me in more shoots! I thought he was just saying that to be nice! _

“You’re a better model than you give yourself credit for, Marinette.”

“I don’t want to model, though. I want to design clothes,” she reminded him. 

“It may not be the best thing, but think of it like this. If you model for other designers, you’re making connections, aren’t you? And the more friendly you are and the more they adore a good model like you, the better you have at getting into the designing world.” He had a point. This was building connections and who knew, maybe in the long run that’d get her more exposure. 

“All right, here’s your outfit for the shoot,” Jean said, pulling a flamboyant sequin dress off of the rack along with a small ditty bag. “And lucky you, you get to wear jewelry this time.” Marinette dug through the bag, heart stopping as she saw two shiny rhinestone earrings.

“Do I have to wear the earrings? I don’t like taking mine off,” she said, fingers nervously tapping her Miraculous.

“You have to. Personally, I’d rather not risk Gabriel’s wrath, to be honest. If he puts something in your ditty bag, you have to wear it,” Jean said while he cleaned his station.  _ I’m sorry Tikki, _ Marinette thought before pulling her Miraculous off and putting them into her purse. “Please make sure no one takes my purse. My earrings are family heirlooms.”

“Of course,” he nodded. Marinette pulled her dress and the jewelry on before making her way to one of the sets. Adrien was already there, scrolling through his phone and face resting on his hand. Marie-Christine sat on his other side, eyes fixed on the action going on in front of the camera. Marinette squeezed his shoulder before sitting next to him. 

“So, they have you dressed to the nines too?” she asked, looking from his sequin vest to the bright red lipstick staining his lips. He shrugged.

“I’ve been in worse.” Adrien pocketed his phone and slung an arm over Marinette’s shoulders. “So, I was thinking tonight after the shoot we can go back to my house and have pizza, some cake, watch a few movies, and cuddle to celebrate the end of the shoot. What do you say?”

“It sounds perfect,” she replied, nuzzling into his neck. 

“Ugh, gross! I totally just got herpes from watching you two eyefuck,” Marie-Christine groaned melodramatically. Marinette giggled and snuggled closer to Adrien. 

“Maybe next time you shouldn’t be a voyeur,” he grinned. 

“That was a pretty Chat Noir thing to say.” The words were out of Marinette’s mouth before she could stop herself. Adrien grinned wickedly, his other arm circling her shoulders.

“Oh? And how would you know how he talks? Are you seeing him behind my back?” Adrien’s lips were right up to her ear, voice silky and teasing. Color exploded on Marinette’s face, voice stammering as she tried to fix the situation. It only got worse. 

“N-no! Of c-course I’m not I’ve only seen him once!” she cried. Adrien pressed a light kiss to her ear. 

“I don’t believe you. I guess I’ll just have to leave a mark and make sure he knows you’re not his.” Marinette’s blood was already boiling and as Adrien peppered chaste, tickling kisses on her neck it only got hotter. She giggled profusely, hands on his chest playfully trying to push him away. 

“Really, Adrien? Right now?” Adrien shrieked and pushed himself off of Marinette at the sound of Inocencio’s voice, nearly falling out of his chair in the process. The photographer gave the two a critical look. Behind him, Marie-Christine made gagging gestures.

“Sorry,” Adrien mumbled. His face was redder than his lipstick and his eyes were glued to the floor. Inocencio sighed.

“It’s fine. I guess the subtle lipstick marks are fine. Your dad’s working with Jérémy so I have free reign and I’d rather not send her back to makeup,” Inocencio shrugged. “Let’s get these shots done so we can go home.” 

The set was a rather intimate scene, a red velvet chaise in a drawing room with curtained windows behind them. They were instructed to sit and pose. Inocencio worked lightning-fast, camera always flashing as he shouted instructions. Marinette tried to process the demands as quickly as possible, but found it a struggle. Adrien, however, moved as fast as Inocencio: clearly, he was used to the Italian man’s guidance in shoots. Flash after flash after flash, the shoot dragged on and finally after what felt like hours, Inocencio let them go.

“I’ll get dressed and meet you by the entrance, okay?” Adrien told her. 

“Yeah, sounds good!” she replied. With a quick peck they parted ways, Adrien heading in the opposite direction to get to the mens’ trailer. I wonder what we’ll watch tonight, Marinette mused as she made her way to the womens trailer. Something cute. Or something scary so I have an excuse to cuddle up to him. But then again, maybe watching something about serial killers isn’t good when one’s dropping bodies through Paris, she shuddered. A hand grasped her shoulder and she squeaked. It was Jérémy.

“Marinette, can I speak with you for a moment?” he asked. 

“Sure. What is it?” she replied.

“Gabriel asked that I take a few shots with you to get a proper modelling portfolio set up for you. I have the set done and it’ll take just a few minutes,” he said. “Gabriel wants them done before you and Adrien leave.”

“Oh! Does he want me to change for them?” she inquired.

“No. He said a few pictures in what you’re wearing is fine and later at another shoot we’ll take more,” he said. Marinette nodded and followed him away from the dressing rooms. I hope this is fast. I really just want to go to Adrien’s and have something to eat and cuddle, she thought. I can’t believe Gabriel was serious, though. He really wants to keep me as a model? He must be nicer than I thought he was. 

Marinette and Jérémy rounded a corner when it happened. His arms shot out to grab her, a foul-smelling rag smothering her face. Marinette struggled, muffled screams tearing her throat apart. Her limbs flailed, desperate to land a painful attack but to no avail. The pungent stench from the rag was getting stronger and stronger and her motions were becoming weaker and weaker. The ground was rushing up to meet her body. Black fog was seeping into her mind and the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was Jérémy’s Cheshire cat smile. 


	6. Chapter 6

Adrien didn’t know whether it was his boyfriend sense or his Chat Noir sense that was going off, but he knew something was wrong. He’d been waiting by the entrance for half an hour for Marinette and she hadn’t shown yet. He knew it didn’t take thirty minutes to wipe off glitter, especially with the good cleaning wipes the makeup team had. Not to mention every call he made rang for minutes before ending in her cheery voice mail.

“Father, Nathalie, have you seen Marinette?” he asked as the two approached him.

“No, I haven’t,” Nathalie answered while Gabriel shook his head. Adrien’s stomach knotted on itself. “She must have left already.”

“No, I invited her over for dinner. I told her to wait here for me,” he said.

“She might still be in the trailer. Jean and Emcé are still in there,” Gabriel said. Adrien took off running to the trailer, his heart pounding in his ears.  _ Where is she, _ he wondered.  _ Why is she taking so long? _ He wanted to horrible feeling in his gut to subside.  _ I have no proof she’s hurt. I shouldn’t panic until I have proof. _ His father was right. Jean and Marie-Christine were in the trailer, amicably chatting.

“Have you seen Marinette?” Adrien demanded. 

“No, I haven’t. I thought she must’ve gone home already,” Marie-Christine said with a shrug.

“No, she can’t have left yet. She hasn’t changed or gotten her purse back from me yet,” Jean said, lifting the familiar pink bag up off the ground. 

“She left her purse?” Nausea was beating against Adrien’s stomach violently. She was forgetful, but there was no way she’d leave her purse and she’d blow him off. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. 

“I assumed she was still with you,” Jean said. “I have to head home. Can you give Marinette her purse when you see her?”

“Of course,” Adrien replied, taking the purse from him.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Jean said with a wave as he went to leave the trailer.

“But we don’t have a shoot tomorrow,” Adrien replied.

“Nicole’s funeral service is in the morning, remember?” Emcé reminded him.  _ Nicole? Who’s -  _

The pieces fell into place in Adrien’s mind. Missing Agreste models turning up dead. Marinette’s disappearance. Bile rose in his throat as he ran out of the trailer, quickly dialling Alya’s phone.

“Hey, Adrien! What’s -”

“Marinette’s in trouble! We need to find her!”

 

Gradually, Marinette’s senses came back to her and she opened her eyes. A sharp throbbing beat against her head. A hard plastic ball was shoved into her mouth and leather straps cut into her cheeks to keep it in place. Thick rope ran across her wrists and pulled her naked body taut. She was tied to the cool wood floor.  _ My Miraculous! _ she realized, head snapping in all directions as she looked for her purse.  _ Where are my earrings?! Where’s Tikki?! _

“So you’ve come to.” Jérémy’s cold voice made her shudder. “It’s about time. I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow for the shoot.” He was sitting not too far from her, cleaning a camera lens. Behind him, Marinette could see the photographs of several people, mostly women. All we naked and tied to the floor, trapped in the same spot and position as she was. The realization of where Marinette was and who she was in the room with sunk into her body and slowly crushed the air out of her. She was in the room with the very serial killer she’d been tracking for almost a week.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Jérémy told her, giving her a toxic glare. “It’s your fault Agreste hired another photographer and cut my pay in half. I wanted to take Marie-Christine at first. Seemed fitting I put a slut like her in the grave. But then you had to go and tempt me. You deserve it a lot more than she does.” He put his cleaning rag down and pulled out a cheap, old-looking cell phone. “Right now, I think it’s time for a little photoshoot, don’t you think?” 

 

“I can’t track Marinette’s phone if it’s not with her,” Alya groaned from behind Adrien’s desk. The two were in his closet, in his base of operations. He sat beside her, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. Time was ticking by and if they didn’t find Marinette in time . . . well, he didn’t want to think about it. 

“There has to be another way to find her!” Adrien cried. 

“If no one saw her when she was taken, we don’t have any leads.” Alya’s fingers were running through her hair frantically. “We should just call the police and have them do it. We don’t have the resources to find her.”

“We can’t give up! If we do she’s as good as dead!” Adrien pointed out angrily.

“I’m not giving up! I just think we need professional help!” Alya retorted. Adrien groaned and leaned back dangerously in his chair. An ache was crawling up his throat and tears were starting to build in his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a nightmare. 

His phone beeped with an incoming message and quicker than lightning his hands shot out for the phone and opened the message. As fast as he opened the text he dropped the phone, vomit burning his throat. Photos of Marinette had been sent to him. Horrible, degrading, utterly humiliating photos of her tied to a floor and gagged, naked and being groped and angry sobs were pouring out of Adrien. Angry at himself for failing to protect her, enraged that someone would do this to her.  _ When I find that bastard, I’m going to kill him, _ he thought as Alya grabbed the phone.  _ I’m going to save Marinette and kill him. _

“Jesus Christ,” she murmured, tears prickling her own eyes. “How could someone do this?”

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly. Alya’s fingers flew across the computer keyboard, glancing at Adrien’s screen every so often.

“Do you recognize the number?” she asked. He shook his head. “I’m going to try and see what cell tower the text went through. From there, maybe we can get an estimation of where she is,” she continued on. 

“Wait a minute! If she was taken from the set, maybe one of the workers took her!” Adrien was at his laptop, slipping into his father’s contact database. 

“I got a hit! The message went through a tower in La Courneuve! She must be somewhere nearby!” Alya announced. Adrien quickly searched his father’s contacts for anyone in that area. Only one name came up.

Jérémy Dupont. 

_ God, how could I have been so stupid?! _ Adrien asked himself, standing up from the desk. The man had basically been harassing Marinette whenever she was on set and he never thought that maybe that man was the one who took her? Adrien prayed it wasn’t too late for his girlfriend. If she could hold out a few more minutes, he could reach her and save her.

“Alya, call the police. Tell them everything and have them go to Jérémy’s apartment. I’m going to save Marinette.” 

 

Another primal sob escaped Marinette’s throat as Jérémy finished, cum spewing onto her lower lips. 

“Cry all you want, but no one’s going to hear you. This apartment is soundproof,” he said as he grabbed his camera. “Let’s get some good photos of you before you join the others.” Her sobs got heavier, tears burning her eyes. She couldn’t do this. Not again. She just wanted it to be over. Being dead was a million times better than this. 

With a boom the door violently swung open, a tall, black figure in the doorway. 

“Get away from her and maybe I’ll let you die painlessly,” a familiar voice seethed.  _ Chat? _ Marinette thought, watching as her partner stormed forward, baton out and a demonic look on his face. This wasn’t the fun, goofy Chat she saved Paris with. This Chat Noir was a man straight from hell with revenge burning in his eyes. Jérémy smirked and gave Chat a patronizing look. He opened his mouth to talk but in one clean swing, Chat’s baton slammed into Jérémy’s neck with a sickening crunch. The man was thrown across the room, hitting the wall so hard the photos of past victims fell to the ground. 

Chat ripped the ball gag out of her mouth and kissed her, hands cradling her face. Marinette was stunned, staring up at his teary green eyes in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise, my love,” he said, kissing her forehead. He unzipped a pocket and pulled out a large T-shirt. “You can wear this once I get you free.”  _ Love? Didn’t protect me? What’s he talking about, _ Marinette wondered. Chat cut the bonds on her ankles before moving to her wrists. He managed to free one when a flash of motion caught her eye.

“Chat, watch out!” she warned him. Jérémy tackled Chat Noir to the ground, grubby fingers snatching the baton and throwing it across the room. Chat growled and lifted his hand into the air.

“Cataclysm!” he shouted and dug his nails into Jérémy’s thigh. The man screamed in agony as the smell of rotting, burning flesh filled the small space. Blood was seeping onto the ground and Chat Noir clawed at Jérémy’s leg, tearing it off and reaching grabbing the bloody stump to make flesh and exposed muscles and tissue rot. A flash of green light burst around Chat Noir and Marinette watched in shock as he transformed from his superhero form into Adrien.  _ Her _ Adrien.

“Plagg, what the hell?!” Adrien yelled.

“I’m not going to let you abuse your power like this,” the small black kwami said in an angry voice.  _ Wait, WHAT?! Adrien?! Chat Noir?! No, no, I have to be seeing things, they can’t be the same person! I would have figured it out by now if they were! _ Her head was spinning and the few coherent thoughts she had were screaming at her to get more answers. 

“Fine! I don’t need you!” Adrien shouted at the kwami. His hand quickly dove into his pockets and pulled out a wickedly sharp knife. Marinette’s fingers tugged on the rope around her right wrist, desperate to get free and help Chat. No, Adrien. Jérémy groaned as Adrien’s foot collided with his ribcage and kicked him towards a desk. Adrien scrambled over to Marinette. She noticed the blood staining the knife.

“Adrien, you’re Chat Noir?” she asked as he cut her final bond.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. It’s supposed to be a secret,” he said, dropping the knife and leaning back in for another peck. His hands cupped her face and his thumb soothingly rubbed her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out of here and to a hospital. Alya called the police and they’re on their way. They should be here any moment.” Another kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I should have known something was wrong with him and stayed close to you at all time. I’m the worst boyfriend ever. But I’ll make it up to you, Marinette, I promise. I love you so mu -”

_ Bang. _

Adrien slumped forward over Marinette, his weight crushing her torso. A scream ripped itself from her throat at the red mass growing on his back. His body was shuddering and his breath was shaky as he labored for breath. 

“No! No no no, Adrien, Adrien, stay with me!” she screamed, hands reaching out for his face. His kwami flew over to them, surveying the damage. She could faintly hear Jérémy curse and turn back to his desk, rifling through a drawer. He did this. He shot him.  _ He shot Adrien. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm whatcha say~
> 
> Well, writing this chapter turned out to be a lot quicker than I thought it'd be, especially considering the subject matter and the whole climax part of the story. We got one more chapter to go and I'm hoping to finish this series by Sunday, but since I'm wrapped up in Marichat Week who knows if that'll happen. Not to mention I have a lot of threads to clean up at the end of this fic.
> 
> But yeah! Thank you guys so much for your support! Every time I hear back from you or see a follow or favorite it makes my day! I hope you keep loving the story and I hope you guys stick around for the very end of this! uwu


	7. Chapter 7

Something in Marinette snapped. Her boyfriend was bleeding to death on to pof her, his kwami desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Her kidnapper was rifling through his drawers, muttering about lack of ammo. And she battered, bruised, and shaking violently. Tikki was not with her and she was left to her own devices. But she was done being a victim. This man, no, this pathetic, disgusting excuse for a human being had tried to make her his victim.

And  _ nobody _ made Marinette Dupain-Cheng a victim. 

Then and there she vowed that no one would ever hurt her again, that no one would dare harm her or her loved ones if they knew what was good for them.

A primal, throat-shredding battle cry ripped out of her throat as her fingers grabbed Adrien’s knife and dove for Jérémy. Silver sliced into cotton and flesh, blood spurting from wounds. Marinette vaguely realized she was screaming and sobbing as she stabbed Jérémy. One, two, five, nine stab wounds. She dug the knife wherever she could. In his throat, in his heart, in his eyes, through his cheek. Blood leaked and streamed out of his injuries, his body shuddering under hers. 

It was as if she was watching the scene as a spectator. She watched herself stab Jérémy to death. She watched as the police swarmed the apartment and dragged her off of him. Medics rushed in and hauled Adrien away, Plagg hiding in the T-shirt Adrien had brought for her. They took her to a hospital, giving her emergency contraception and testing her for any STIs before the police asked her for details. Numbly, she told them everything that had happened. She left out the part about Adrien coming as Chat Noir; she still had to protect his identity.

The reunions she had with her family, Alya, and Tikki had all been tearful. None of them pushed for details and for that Marinette was thankful. Even telling the story, especially the rape, just once was painful enough. She was glad they didn’t force her to tell them all of the details. Maybe someday she’d tell them, but right now the wound was still too fresh. 

Six days after her kidnapping, Marinette went back to the hospital to take a pregnancy test, Tikki and Plagg carefully stowed away in her purse. Nerves crashed against her stomach as she sat patiently in one of the small offices. It wasn’t just her fear of a positive result that brought on her nausea. For the past six days she’d desperately tried to get information on Adrien. Whether he was okay, whether he was still in the hospital, whether or not he’d had surgery. But no word. Nathalie wouldn’t return her calls and the news wasn’t saying anything about it either, only that she and Adrien had subdued the Model Killer, as they were now calling Jérémy.

“Tikki, can you do me a favor?” Marinette asked her kwami, opening her purse just a smidge. Tikki poked her head out, a few cookie crumbs on her mouth. Poor thing had been starving by the time Alya brought her purse back to her and it seemed Tikki was still feeling the repercussions by eating as much as possible. “Can you figure out what room Adrien is in?”

“Can do!” Without another word, Tikki flew out of the purse and phased through the ceiling.

“Great news, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng! The pregnancy test came back negative!” A cheery nurse said, entering the room with a huge smile on her face. A shaky sigh of relief left Marinette. No STIs and no pregnancy. “You’re free to go! And get some good food in you now that you aren’t fasting for a blood test.”

“That I can do,” Marinette replied, getting up off the stiff leather bench and heading for the door.  _ I’ll get food once I see Adrien, _ she thought. Ducking into an isolated corridor, she waited impatiently for Tikki to return. A minute later, a small red blur came barreling down from the ceiling.

“Fourth floor, room seventeen,” Tikki reported. 

“Is he okay?” Marinette demanded as she ran for the elevators. 

“He’s okay.” He was okay.  _ He was okay. _ A weight lifted from her shoulders and although she had reassurance from Tikki, she still sprinted to Adrien’s room. He was okay but she needed to see him for herself. 

Surprise surprise, it was a private room and Adrien’s chauffeur was parked outside. I wonder how much media attention Adrien’s gotten now that everyone knows he went up against Jérémy, she wondered vaguely. The bodyguard let her through into Adrien’s room and allowed the door to shut behind her. 

Adrien was sporting a black eye, his body was spotted with ugly yellow bruises, and he looked worse for wear, but he was alive. A sob climbed up Marinette’s throat as she ran to his bed, hugging his good side and nuzzling his neck.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she sniffled, words sputtering out of her mouth. His lips peppered kisses everywhere, on her face, in her hair, along the silvery trail tears left on her cheeks. 

“And you’re okay. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“You did everything you could, Adrien,” she reassured him. “How are you feeling?”

“Upset that I wasn’t able to save you and really sore,” he replied. 

“Yeah, he probably can’t feel real pain since he’s been doped up on painkillers since he got here,” Plagg added from his spot on Adrien’s bedside table. He was sitting on top of a pile of candy. “He was in surgery for four hours.”

“Four hours?!” Marinette bolted up, looking at her boyfriend incredulously.

“I’m fine,” Adrien insisted, pulling her back into him. “They got the bullet out and patched me up. I still have to recover and I’m not going to be released soon, but I’m alive and I’m going to live, my lady.”

“I’m so gla - wait, what did you just call me?!” Adrien gave her a mischievous grin and planted a wet kiss on her cheek. 

“Your kwami isn’t as stealthy as she thinks she is,” he murmured. Marinette’s head whipped to her purse. Tikki popped out of the bag, a nervous grimace on her face.

“At least you don’t have to tell him?” she offered. Marinette groaned and fell back on the pillows, hands covering her face. 

“I know you didn’t want our reveal to be like this, but I just want you to know I love all sides of you no matter what,” Adrien told her. She breathed out slowly, counting her breath. He loved her still. He loved Marinette and he loved Ladybug. He was okay with her being Ladybug. She was going to be okay.

“And I love all sides of you,” she replied quietly, leaning back into him. “I have to say, I’m going to miss you on patrols.”

“I promise I’ll get better as soon as possible,” he smiled at her. 

“Yeah, about that . . .” The two looked over to Plagg. The kwami was sitting up, tiny arm rubbing the back of his head. 

“Plagg?” 

“You can’t use the Miraculous to seriously harm people, especially people who don’t have powers,” Plagg said.

“Yeah, you told me as much after you ended the transformation and let me fight that monster on my own,” Adrien replied with a hint of snarkiness in his voice.

“I can’t deny that he deserved it, but I can’t let you do things like that,” Plagg answered with just as much snark. “It was self-preservation on my part.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If the Miraculous are used for evil, they eventually become corrupted,” Tikki said. “They were only meant for good. Even though part of what Adrien did was in self-defense, the fact he abused his power and tortured someone puts the Cat Miraculous at risk. There were non-lethal ways to take him out and you went with what was the most painful.”

“But Jérémy had it coming!” Marinette argued as Adrien’s face fell, the reality of his actions slowly coming to him. 

“He did, but I can’t allow the Miraculous to be corrupted. You don’t understand what kind of catastrophe that would cause,” Plagg said.

“So you have to find a new holder?” Adrien’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Adrien. But I have a duty to Master Fu and my Miraculous above my holder.”

“I won’t do it again, I promise!” Adrien cried, hands reaching out for his kwami. Marinette herself felt like she was hit by a train.  _ Plagg’s taking Adrien’s Miraculous away? _ “I’ll never attack someone like that again! I can’t lose you, Plagg! I can’t stop being Chat Noir!”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Plagg said. “Do you think this is easy for me to to? Do you think I  _ want _ to leave you?!” 

“If you want to stay, stay!” Adrien pleaded. Tears were brimming in his eyes and falling in rivulets down his cheeks.

“I can’t. I can’t risk you losing control again. I’m sorry, Adrien.” The boy broke, falling back onto his pillows and his hands covered his face as he sobbed. Marinette stared blankly at Plagg, but his remorseful yet stern look didn’t -  _ couldn’t _ \- register with her.

Why was this happening? Sure, Adrien had been rough with Jérémy, but the man had had it coming and in that situation, there wasn’t much else Adrien could do. And what about fighting akumas instead of people? What if this had been an akuma fight instead? What if they had a sadistic akuma and Adrien had to give them the same treatment he gave Jérémy? How could Plagg expect Adrien to hold back when he had a job to do? 

If Marinette been in Adrien’s place, seeing him tied up and naked in a serial killer’s lair, she would have done everything she could to save him, just as he had done for her. Hell, if she found  _ anyone _ like that, she would fight for them with everything she had and that included her powers. 

But could she even promise Tikki she wouldn’t snap? Never in a million years did she think she would stab a man to death, and yet here she was. As Ladybug, she’d have to either only fight akumas or hold back when she fought others and she didn’t know whether that was a realistic option or not.

Akumas were a serious problem and she knew that, but what about those who were being threatened with rape like she had? She knew Tikki wouldn’t mind her fighting both, but what if she snapped and put Tikki’s Miraculous at risk? With akumas, there was always her Lucky Cure to fix everything. With rapists, there was no Lucky Cure. There was nothing to make it better besides the satisfaction they were off the streets and even at that, nothing could wipe away the trauma. Before this, Marinette thought akumas and Hawkmoth were the true evil. But after all she’d been through, she realized there were much worse things in the world and she wanted to do everything she could to protect others from going through the same nightmare she had. 

“Tikki, I can’t be Ladybug anymore.” Adrien’s voice rang in her ears but she couldn’t hear the words he said. “After going through that, I can’t fight akumas and criminals. I can’t promise you I wouldn’t abuse the power with rapists.” She fought back a sob. “And besides, Ladybug and Chat Noir are two sides of a coin and I don’t think I could work with a different Chat Noir.”

“Marinette, are you sure?” Tikki asked, little arms reaching out and touching her holder’s face.

“I’m sure, Tikki. I’m going to miss you, but I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Marinette placed a little kiss on Tikki’s head. 

“Marinette, no,” Adrien choked as his hand gripped her shoulder. “Don’t do this because of me.”

“I’m not,” she replied, leaning into him. “I’m doing this for me and others who need protection.” She reached up and took her earrings out, placing them in Tikki’s little arms. “I’m going to miss you so much, Tikki.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Marinette.” With one last embrace and peck, Tikki was off, followed by Plagg with Adrien’s ring. The room fell silent. Tears pricked Marinette’s eyes and she cuddles closer to Adrien’s letting his arms wrap around her. 

They held each other and cried.

 

Screams poured out of an alleyway, the sound of terror and ripping cloth filling the hot night air.

“Shut up!” A gruff voice growled. “Shut up, you little whore!”

“If you know what’s good for you, you better get away from her,” a masculine voice at the mouth of the alley said. The man and young girl turned to see two figures looming behind them. One a tall young man dressed in a white tracksuit with matching cat ears and a mask, the other a young woman in black and yellow workout clothes and a black mask on her face. 

“Get the fuck away from us,” the man threatened, pulling out a knife. The cat-like man snorted and rolled his bright green eyes.

“You think we’re scared of a knife?” he teased maliciously.

“It’s going to take more than that to scare Paris’ best vigilantes,” the woman replied confidently. The cat-like man pulled a long staff out from behind his back and offered it to woman.

“Would you like to take care of this scumbag rapist, my lovely Wasp?” She grinned, a smile that made the young girl’s heart soar with hope, and took the staff from him.

“I’d love to. Chat Blanc, let’s make sure this pathetic excuse for a person learns his lesson about attacking young girls.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even really know where to begin on my final notes on this fic. I've written some dark shit but this is probably in the top five of my most fucked-up writing.
> 
> Two main inspirations for this fic were serial killer Bill Bradford and the video game _Life is Strange._ I watch a lot of murder documentaries and the one centered around Bradford talked about how he was a photographer that lured his victims from shoots and bars promising to take photos for their portfolios. And of course from LiS, the photographer drugging and taking photos of his victims. 
> 
> To everyone who's been following this fic and supporting me through this emotional journey, thank you so much! This is the first time I've done a fic like this and all of the comments and kudos and just the love y'all gave me really helped me through writing this and GAH, just thank you guys <3


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